


The Whittaker Brothers

by Nellie2018



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 17:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellie2018/pseuds/Nellie2018
Summary: Dean needs to raise money and fleeces the wrong pair of brothers in a game of pool.  Unfortunately Sam pays the price.





	The Whittaker Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> This story is intended to be set in one of the earlier seasons where the boys are on the road hunting the monster of the week.

Sam closed the laptop and sighed, turning around resignedly at the sound of raised voices. He saw two burly rednecks brandishing pool cues in the direction of his grinning brother and he watched as the taller redneck brought his cue down in anger, aiming at the object of his ire.  
“You’re a cheating hustler” he snarled, aiming with force only to be stopped and thrown back by a pile driver of a punch to his jaw.   
Dean called down to him, “I may be a hustler but I’m no cheat”, swinging round to block a blow by the second redneck. He dodged and slammed a clenched fist into his opponents abdomen causing the bearded man to fall back gasping in pain. The first attacker rose and weakly punched but there was no force in it and Dean easily jumped back, pushing him away with a kick to the stomach.  
Sam packed his laptop away and pushed it into his bag, standing up and throwing it over his shoulder. He walked over to the bearded redneck just as he was about to smash a bottle over his brothers head.  
Pulling him back he snapped “Enough” and pressed his fingers to his neck in a vulcan nerve pinch. The attacker fell back in agony until Sam released him and he sank to his knees shocked by how much pain that simple move had produced.  
Dean scooped up the money from the pool table and tucked it into his pocket as he watched the bartender come over.   
“You boys had better hit the road. The Whittakers have a reputation round here and you’ve just got on the wrong side of them.”  
Sam nodded and guided his brother away. “We’re only passing through anyway. Sorry for the trouble. Come on Dean, I think we’ve outstayed our welcome again.”  
Dean flashed a wide smile, having enjoyed the workout and worked out his fingers, slightly bruised from the punches.  
“At least we can fill Baby up now” he said, glancing at the two Whittaker brothers who were balefully glaring up at him. He had hustled the naive brothers as they were down to their last few dollars and had successfully fleeced them out of $200. That was a full tank of fuel for both Baby and themselves for a few days. 

 

“This ain’t over” murmured Joe Whittaker climbing to his feet and holding out a hand to his brother Jim. He watched as the two tall strangers walked out the door, fixing them in his memory. “Come on Jimmy, I know where they’re going.”  
Dean had made an error of mentioning Baby within earshot of him earlier in the evening and he knew that this was his term for his car. If Baby needed filling up, that meant he would have to visit the only gas station locally which lay on the edge of town. 

 

“Are you ok?” asked Sam, checking his brother out of for signs of blood.  
Dean grinned and held out his hands. “Dudes didn’t even get close.”  
Sam accepted that sometimes punters would object when they realised that they had been hustled by an expert and he was glad that this time Dean had escaped without too many bruises. They walked together to the Impala, got in and Dean started the engine.  
“I guess we should be moving on. We passed a gas station on the outskirts, it should still be open.”   
Sam turned and put his bag behind his seat and relaxed as Dean pulled out of the parking lot and turned left onto the main road out of town. Coverton, Missouri was just another unmemorable small town backwater that would soon be forgotten.

 

Coopers Gas Station was on the main road leading out of town. It’s slightly shabby but welcoming lights were plain to see to Dean as he pulled into the deserted forecourt and he climbed out and waved to the lone cashier who turned the pump on at the counter. Sam climbed of the car and stood in the fresh air as the night was warm for late May.  
“How much did you get?” he asked, making conversation as he watched Dean fitting the pump handle to the gas tank at the rear of the car.  
“$200. Enough to fill up and feed us till the end of the week.” Dean answered and began to watch the dial on the pump tick up the total.  
Sam sighed. The brothers had lived hand to mouth for most of their lives and the thought of a regular paycheck seemed so alien to them. There must be an easier way of making a living he thought once again.  
Dean finished the filling of the tank and put the lance back in the holder.  
“Want anything?” he asked, glancing at his tall brother as he took off towards the cashier.  
Sam shook his head. They had eaten at the bar before Dean had offered to play a game of pool so he wasn’t hungry. By habit, he watched as his brother walked to the counter and took the cash from his pocket.

 

As Dean finished paying, he glanced out of the window and saw a white pickup coming up the road. A prickling sense of danger swept over him and he hurried out of the building. Sam was standing at the side of Baby, ready to get in when the older Winchester returned. The white pickup gathered speed and Dean spotted a shotgun barrel being pushed forward through the open passenger window. In slow motion Dean saw what was going to happen.  
“Sa a a a m” he shouted, pointing to the danger.   
Sam whipped his head around and saw the pickup but it was too late. A shotgun blast came in his direction and hit him flinging him around and onto the ground. To the sound of whoops and laughter, the white pickup drove off.  
Dean raced to his brothers’ side, praying that the blast hadn’t hit him. Unfortunately, as he rounded the car, his heart dropped at the sight of his brother lying on the ground clutching a bloody upper thigh.  
“Easy, easy” he coached, encouraging the cursing Sam to lay still. “Let me see the damage Sammy”.  
Sam quieted despite the burning pain in his leg, trusting him completely.  
Dean critically examined the area of damage. The shotgun had been relatively far away and the pellets had not caused major damage but Sams leg was peppered with buckshot which would be not only painful to remove, but also could also lead to infection if the wounds weren’t treated promptly.  
“Sons of bitches” he cursed, as Sam breathed through the pain. “Wait till I get hold of them Whittakers”.  
Sam grabbed his arm “No. Someone will get killed if this escalates. Just get me patched up and get out of here”. He held up his arm for help to sit up.   
Dean reluctantly brought his brother up to sit with his back against the Impala.  
“They could have killed you Sammy”.  
Sam shook his head “But they didn’t. They got their revenge, leave it at that. I just want to go”.  
Dean shook himself and concentrated on priorities. He stood up and saw the cashier on the telephone presumably to the local police.   
“Time to go.” he thought. “Right Sammy, just grab onto me and I’ll lift you up. The cops are probably on their way and we don’t need that attention right now. He reached round and helped Sam rise up. Sams leg was bleeding and he needed somewhere to stop and treat it properly. He guided his brother into the front seat and reached into the back for the medical kit. Pulling out a sterile pad, he placed it against the wound and guided Sams hand to it.   
“Just try and hold that in place. I need to drive us out of town for a while but I’ll try and stop as soon as I can”.  
Sam breathed through the pain, his leg throbbing. He knew he was bleeding but was confident that the injury wasn’t immediately life threatening. He trusted his brother to get him to a place of safety.

 

Dean pulled into a roadside motel about 30 miles West of Coverton, at what he considered a safe distance from any trouble that was behind them. Sam had been quiet, occasionally grimacing at the pain that throbbed through his leg. The white sterile pad was now red and Dean knew it was time to sort out the injury. It had been too long for his liking but a possible revisit from the Whittakers had kept him moving   
“Stay there Sammy, I’ll go and get us a room”. Sam nodded slowly, trying to keep himself still to minimise the pain. Shortly later, he saw Dean appear at his side and open the door. Flinging an arm around him, he allowed himself to be pulled up and cried out as the movement forced the burning in his leg to reignite with a passion. Dean held him until he had gathered himself and then they began the short walk to the room.  
Opening the door, Dean guided Sam to the bed and lay him back against the mattress. Swiftly visiting the bathroom he returned with a towel and put it underneath Sams damaged leg before stripping his tall brother of his boots, socks and jeans. Returning to the car, he brought in both of their bags and the medical kit, making sure that all was there.  
Sam lay back on the bed, conserving his strength and looked up at his brother as he felt him return to his side. Turning, Dean reached for some painkillers and a bottle of water and lifting Sams head he urged him to take the pills which he did without too much of a fuss. Laying his head gently back, Dean couldn’t stop himself from brushing his fingers through Sams long hair.  
He fetched a washcloth and he gently washed the wound, cleaning away the congealed blood as Sam tried to stay still, submitting to the ministrations. He knew what was coming next and heard a quiet apology before Dean poured the antiseptic onto the wound.  
Arching his back in agony as his leg burned, he phased out briefly. He came back with the feel of pincers in his leg as he felt Dean begin to dig out the pellets. There were many pellets in the meat of his thigh and it took Dean a good half an hour before he was satisfied that he had removed every single one. More than once he cursed the Whittaker Brothers. Sam stoically tolerated his brothers efforts, phasing on the edge of consciousness, grunting as each pellet was drawn out. The white heat enveloped his leg. Eventually Dean came to a stop and having applied further antiseptic, wrapped the wound expertly.  
He looked down at his brother and brushed away the hair from his brow, frowning at the heat.  
“All done Sammy. Just rest now.” he murmured.  
“Thanks De..” he heard as he watched the green eyes close. His brother had lost a fair amount of blood, but not life threatening. A long sleep would soon restock his arteries. He was lucky that the damage to his leg had been relatively shallow and should heal fairly quickly. Dean shuddered as he considered how worse it would have been if the pickup had swung into the gas station and not shot from the main road. 

 

Sam slept for a straight 16 hours and only stirred mid afternoon of the next day. Dean had been watching over him all that time, occasionally wiping the sweat from his brothers brow. Sams fever had been relatively mild and by the time he woke up, his temperature was near enough normal. Earlier in the day he had slipped out and bought a couple of sandwiches from the local diner which he was saving for when Sam woke. Sam groaned as he moved and a sharp pain creased his leg. Dean moved to him and helped him sit up against the pillows on the bed head making sure he was comfortable.  
“How are you doing?” he asked quietly, handing Sam a bottle of water.  
Sam considered the question. “Must admit, I’ve felt better but there again I’ve felt worse as well.”  
Dean nodded and passed a couple of painkillers over.  
“Chug those and I’ll get you something to eat.”  
Sam accepted the pills and took them obediently. His leg was sore but as long as he didn’t move it, it was tolerable. He knew it would be a few days before he would be pain free.  
“Any news on the Whittakers?” he asked, starting to chew on the sandwich his brother had handed him.  
“All quiet. I think they got what they wanted. I still want to kill those Sons of Bitches.”  
“I know but what’s done is done. I’ll be ok.”  
“They tried to kill you Sammy.”  
“No they didn’t. They could have come a lot closer and took my head off. They just wanted to hurt me, like we’d hurt them.”  
“I hurt them you mean. It was me that got into that fight.” Dean said guiltily.  
“They started it. And I did give a vulcan nerve pinch to the one with a beard just before he was going to brain you with a bottle of Bud.”  
Dean smiled.  
“Spock would be proud Sammy.”  
“Guess we’ll just chalk it up to experience. Just try and pick saner guys to hustle next time.” He looked down at the bandage. How’s my leg, what’s the damage?”  
“Picked out 21 pellets out of the meat of your thigh. You lost a fair amount of blood but not too much to worry about. I didn’t need to bother with stitches. I guess you will be up and about tomorrow but I need you to rest up for the rest of today.”  
Sam leaned back into the pillows having finished half of his sandwich, tiredness starting to sweep over him as the painkillers began to kick in.  
“Not going to argue with that.” he said, feeling his brother helping him slide down.  
“Rest Sammy. I’ll watch over you.”  
“Just like always” he murmured and closed his eyes.


End file.
